Sir James, who had follow'd Lady Mary, soon return'd with her Ladyship, Miss Powis, Lord Darcey, and, what gave me heart-felt pleasure, the steward and his wife;--an honour they with difficulty accepted, as they were strangers to Lord Hampstead's family.-- Who says there is not in this life perfect happiness?--I say they are mistaken:--such felicity as I here see and partake of, cannot be call'd imperfect--How comes it that the domestics of _this_ family _so_ much surpass those of _other_ people?--how is it _one_ interest governs the whole?--I want to know a thousand mysteries.--I could write,--I could think eternally,--of the first happy evening.--First happy evening do I say? And can the days that crown that eve be forgot?--Heaven forbid! at least whilst I have recollection.--My heart speaks so fast to my pen, that fain my fingers would,--but cannot keep up with it. The next morning Lord Darcey introduc'd to us the son of Mr. Jenkings.--A finer youth I never saw!--Well might the old gentleman be _suspicious_.--Few fathers would, like _him_, have sacrificed the interest of a son, to preserve that of a friend.--To know the real rank of Miss Powis;--her ten thousand virtues;--her great expectations; yet act with so _much_ caution!--with an anxiety which the most sordid miser watching his treasure, could not have exceeded! and for _what?_--Why lest involuntarily she might enrich his belov'd son with _her_ affections.--Will you part with me to this extraordinary man?--Only for an hour or two.--A walk is propos'd.--Our ramble will not be farther than his house.--You say I may go. Thank you, Madam: I am gone. Just return'd from the steward's, so cramm'd with sweet-meats, cake, and jellies, that I am absolutely stupified. I must tell you who led Miss Powis.--Lord Darcey, to be sure.--No, Madam; I had the favour of his Lordship's arm:--it was Edmund.--I call him Edmund;--every body calls him Edmund;--_yes_, and at Lord Darcey's request _too_.--Never shall I forget in what a graceful manner!--But his Lordship does every thing with grace.--He mention'd something of past times, hinting he should not always have courted him to _such_ honour, presenting the hand of his belov'd. I wish I could send you her look at that moment; it was all love,--all condescension.--I say I cannot send it.--Mortifying! I cannot even borrow _it_. Adieu, dear Madam!--Adieu, dear Sir!--Adieu, you best of parents--It is impossible to say which is most dear to your ever dutiful and affectionate E. DELVES. LETTER XLIV. Miss DELVES to the same. _Barford Abbey_.